


The Fourth Day Back

by cloudyjenn



Series: Outsider [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Rescue, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyjenn/pseuds/cloudyjenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is taken by the Venatori and Nera and Bull join forces to save him.  Featuring the first multiple POVs fic in this verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Day Back

**Author's Note:**

> I used the graphic descriptions of violence tag because there's some slightly bloody talk. It's not very bad, but I used the tag just in case. 
> 
> Also, I wanted to show you guys what Nera looks like. She's described some within, but I also made a picture of her in the character creator of DAI. Her hair is brighter red than this, but they didn't have a brighter color.
> 
> http://cloudyjenn.tumblr.com/post/134755240865/someone-asked-me-what-nera-looked-like-shes-the

Bull always hated leaving Dorian, but this time, it felt worse than usual.  Maybe because they had gone longer than normal between visits. Or more likely it was the very unpleasant three hours they spent on their second night discussing growing threats against the Lucerni.  Dorian wasn't safe.  Nowhere near it and Bull hated sending him back into that environment.

Really, Bull just hated Tevinter.  

He always had, but it'd been years since he actually dealt with the place, so the distaste had returned with force.  If they weren't such assholes, his kadan wouldn't feel obligated to stay in the viper's nest to try and fix it.  How that place ever produced someone as kind and good as Dorian, Bull would never know.

He tried not to let the resentment boil over as he held Dorian close and felt tears dripping on his chest.

“I'm sorry, amatus,” Dorian whispered, voice strained.  “It's foolish to be so upset-”

“No, it's not,” Bull disagreed.  He reached up to stroke Dorian’s hair.  It was getting so long.  Soon he'd be able to gather it into a small ponytail.  “You're doing a really difficult thing.  I hate it,” he admitted baldly.  “But I'm so proud of you.”

Dorian wrapped his arms tighter around Bull’s waist.  They stood together in the entrance hall of the villa Dorian had inherited.  One of the villas.  They tended to cycle through them all for visits in case someone was paying attention to Dorian’s movements.  

  
They’d already said a prolonged goodbye.  Had a last fuck, the good gentle kind Bull had never had with anyone other than Dorian and then held each other so long that they’d ended up having a second ‘last fuck’.  Now Dorian really had to leave and Bull really needed to let go.

“Proud of me for being brave or for not blasting my fellow Magisters to pieces for being insufferable?” Dorian asked as he lifted his head.  His eyes were damp and red.  Bull wiped away the wetness under one eye.

“Can’t it be both?” he asked.

Dorian huffed a shaky laugh.  But it didn’t last too long.  His brief smile faded away and Bull didn’t like the hint of guilt he saw in Dorian’s eyes.

“Bull, you know if things were different…”

“Hey, hey,” Bull interrupted.  He didn’t think he could bear to hear Dorian say he’d be with Bull and his Chargers if he could.  It was far too close to exactly what Bull wanted.  “I know, kadan.  I’m not mad at you, okay?  I just miss you a lot.”

They’d already had the conversation where both graciously offered the other the chance to keep fucking other people.  As Bull recalled, they’d both ended up annoyed and grumpy and decided to be exclusive instead.  No, Bull didn’t mind the celibacy or the touch starvation.  Well he minded it, but he could handle it.  What Bull hated was not seeing Dorian’s smile.  Hearing his voice in Bull’s ear.  Waking up to the feel of Dorian curled up in his arms.

In other words, the romantic shit.

“It won’t be so long this time,” Dorian promised.  “Three months.”

“Three months,” Bull repeated, nodding.  “You _stay safe_.  Call me every night.”  

He’d never thought of himself as the clingy type, but in Dorian’s situation, Bull couldn’t help it.  Bull hadn’t told Dorian this, but if Dorian ever went a night without a call in, Bull would be on his way to Tevinter.  He suspected Dorian knew though.  

“I will, amatus,” Dorian said, leaning up to kiss him.  “I love you.”

“I love you.”

They didn’t say those words terribly often.  Sometimes during sex if things got heated.  Usually when they met up again after an absence and always when they parted.  Bull wanted Dorian to hear him say it in case...well, just in case.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to Nera,” Bull offered.  

The forested area was usually abandoned, so he figured it wouldn’t be a problem.  She was only waiting about half a mile off anyway.   

“Very well,” Dorian agreed.  He picked up his small bag and slung it over one shoulder before taking Bull’s hand.  Holding hands was an intimacy Bull had not understood until he fell in love.  Now he enjoyed the connection as they walked in comfortable silence through the falling leaves to the meeting point.

Nera stood in a shaft of light peeking through the trees.  Bull grinned at her.  He really liked Nera.  First of all, she was cute as fuck.  Bright red hair.  Bull still _really_ liked red heads, even if he only admired from afar.  She had a really nice rack too, but Bull didn’t dare mention that to Dorian.  Dorian looked at her like a little sister.  Plus he always got annoyed when Bull talked about tits.  As if he actually missed them so much he couldn’t handle it or something.

Weirdo ‘Vint.

“Good morning, Magister Pavus,” Nera said in her low pitched voice.  “The Iron Bull.”

Bull had a feeling Nera would always be formal with them.  But hey, whatever worked for her.  

“Mageling,” he said in an equally formal tone that earned him a small smile from Nera.  “You watch over him, okay?”

“Well of course she will,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes.  “It’s what I pay her to do.”   

Bull could tell Nera’s work meant more to her than just coin.  It'd almost have to.  Otherwise the danger wouldn't nearly be worth it.  Dorian had told Bull about Nera’s mother dying a slave.  That'd be enough to inspire anyone, but Bull knew she cared for Dorian too.  

“I'll be very watchful,” she promised, ignoring Dorian.  

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Bull answered warmly.  

He heard Dorian under his breath.  It sounded a bit like, _it's like I'm not even here._

“We should leave soon,” Nera said as she leaned down to pick up her bag.  “Farewell, the Iron Bull.”

She turned and began slowly walking down the path.  Bull understood she was giving them time for one last kiss goodbye.

Dorian slid his arms around Bull’s waist and looked up at him.  His eyes were dry now, but his sadness clung to him harder than ever.

“Three months,” he said quietly.

“I'll buy us a new set of silk ropes,” Bull teased.

Dorian laughed and pressed his face to Bull's chest.  Their hug didn't last nearly long enough, but Dorian _had_ to pull away.  He tugged Bull down for a soft farewell kiss.

“Amatus,” he breathed against Bull's lips.

It was as good as hearing another _I love you_.

“Better go before you can't anymore,” Bull said.  He squeezed Dorian's hand and _forced_ himself to back away.  Dorian seemed to be having a hard time of it too, judging from the way he kept glancing back to Bull as he began following Nera.

Bull watched Dorian until the trees obscured his lover from sight and then he finally turned in the direction of the inn.

It was going to be a long three months.

*******

 ****  


Dorian’s emotions annoyed him during these departures.  First he always ended up moping and crying like a small child.  If he’d been told two years ago that he’d be weeping over a Qunari lover, he’d have asked when he became possessed and why no one had killed him yet.  

Then after the actual goodbye, he descended into a low level pulse of anger that made him snippy and irritable.  Dorian loathed being uncomfortable and being separated from Bull made him very uncomfortable.  He’d somehow gotten used to sleeping splayed across a broad expanse of superheated gray skin and hearing Bull’s deep grumbling voice teasing him or comforting him in turn.  Bull always seemed to know when which one was needed.  So many times during his day, Dorian would stop and think, _I need to tell Bull this_ or _Bull would think that was hilarious_ and then he’d remember Bull wasn’t _there_.  He tried to remember everything for their call-ins, but it wasn’t the same.

Nera handled Dorian’s stormcloud mood fairly well.  She didn’t try and make him speak or even really acknowledge him as they walked for several miles towards the village where they would borrow horses from a friend of the Inquisition.  It took nearly five miles before the sting of separation finally began to fade into an ache instead of a sharp pain.  

Dorian glanced sideways at Nera.  “I find that part distinctly unpleasant,” he said as a signal to her that he wanted to talk.  Perhaps not about what just happened, but the awkwardness of starting a new topic as though he hadn’t just been brooding did not appeal to him.

“I would imagine so,” Nera commented.  “The Iron Bull is unlike anyone I have ever met in Tevinter.  If you’re now used to that sort of personality…”

Dorian chuckled, feeling grateful to her for lightening his mood with her ridiculous notions of love.  “You make it sound like just anyone could stand in for him if only I could find a man like him in Tevinter.”

To her credit, Nera didn’t blush the way she might have if Dorian teased her so when they first met.  “I didn’t mean it that way, Magister.  Just that he’s so unusual, it must make his absence seem more obvious.”

“Hmm, I suppose you make a fine point,” he mused.  Dorian had never met anyone like Bull in Tevinter, but nor had he met anyone like him in his vast travels across Thedas.  But then, that was probably the _romance_ talking.  

Dorian would have to call Aiya that night so she could properly tease him.  Nera was too professional to tease him the way he needed now.  

They walked the rest of the way quietly discussing magical theory and that helped too.  If anything could distract him from his inconvenient love life, it would be his studies.  Dorian didn’t have nearly enough time to research as he wanted.  Politics, he thought with a grimace.  His life was endlessly mired in horrible Tevinter politics, leaving little time for the pleasures of research and magical experimentation.

Dorian and Nera borrowed two fine brown mares from his Inquisition contact and they rode for hours, only stopping after dark because their mounts were tiring.  He called Adaar from his room at the tiny inn they managed to find and she mocked him soundly.  Dorian knew Aiya was actually very protective of his relationship to Bull.  Something about two of her dearest friends being paired up amused her greatly.  But it helped his spirits to hear her calling him ‘a darling sap’.  

Still, his spirits weren’t particularly high when he and Nera slipped back into Minrathous the following morning.  He had three meetings set up with contacts within the houses of magisters he hoped to recruit to the Lucerni.  No time to pause and ease back into work.  

By the third day back, Dorian was feeling better.  He’d managed to interest one of the magisters enough that she agreed to attend a Lucerni meeting the following week.  Mae agreed to look into hiring elves to work at the headquarters they were planning to build soon.  And of course he spoke to Bull every night, so the lonely feeling of leaving his amatus behind didn’t overwhelm him.  

It was the fourth day back when the problem started.  

Dorian should have known they would come for him on an ordinary afternoon.  He’d always imagined the Venatori attempting to lure him to a false meeting or planting a spy in his household to report on his activities.  His lack of foresight angered Dorian almost more than the attack itself.  They didn’t even bother waiting until nightfall.  They caught him out at the market of all places.  One moment Dorian had been contemplating what color flower to purchase and the next, he had a knife against his throat and was being dragged into a quiet alleyway.  

Fear prickled up his spine.  Not fear of dying, but a fear for his guards.  Dorian had taken three guards with him as always and none of them had yet responded.  Which meant the Venatori had figured out which men were protecting him and very likely already killed them.  Thank the Maker he had forced Nera to take her day off.  

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish by this?” Dorian asked, his voice only sounding strained because he didn’t want to move his throat too much and risk the knife nicking his flesh.  He gathered energy in one hand, but kept it blank of any visible magic.  His other hand held his staff loosely, not daring to lift it.  

“You know what we want, Pavus,” the man growled.  “Your meddling will bring down the Imperium.”

“I’m flattered you think I have so much power.”  Dorian thought of the crystal, but dismissed the idea immediately.  While he would love to hear Bull’s voice again before he died, Dorian didn’t want Bull rushing into danger for him. _I’m sorry, amatus_ , he thought with regret.  But not with surprise.  Dorian realized in that moment that he’d been waiting for this to happen.  An early death due to his smart mouth and inability to stand by while his countrymen abused and twisted his homeland.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it,” he demanded.  

“Too easy for you,” the man sneered.  

Dorian’s anger boiled over.  Who did this person think he was?  Dorian was a _magister_ , the scion of House Pavus.  He might be killed in a dark depressing alley, but he’d be damned if he did it without a fight.

He spun in a sudden motion, feeling the knife slice a shallow cut.  It smarted, but Dorian could tell it wasn’t serious.  The man, short and rather fatter than Dorian expected, looked shocked for only a brief moment.  

Probably because Dorian realized too late how many friends the man had brought.  He flung the fireball, but it did no good.  Someone else cast barrier around the man and then Dorian was abruptly beset by five or six strong mages.  He fought as hard as he had for the Inquisition, lashing out with fire and ice, calling on spirits to rise against his enemies.  

But Dorian was only one man and the Venatori were an insidious spreading disease.  No one came to investigate the sounds of battle.  They must own this market.  Stupid, Pavus, he scolded himself as a small wickedly strong woman grabbed him by the collar while another wrenched the staff away from him.  Dorian felt panic bolt through his belly when he felt the band around his neck snap and the comforting weight of his sending crystal tumble away unnoticed.  

Maybe he’d been hoping to call Bull one last time after all.  

“Enough of this,” someone grunted, a voice he hadn’t heard yet.  “Grab his hands!”

Dorian had always liked being tied up in the bedroom, but the effect was rather less appealing when done by strangers.  

“How dare you,” he hissed.  “I’ll-”

But he never got to finish his threat.  The man who’d called for the end of the battle aimed his staff directly at Dorian’s head and called a spell that sent him crashing into darkness.

 ****  


*********

Bull was answering letters when his crystal lit up.  Odd timing, he thought.  Dorian usually called when night fell in Tevinter and it was still before noon.  He set down the pen.  The letters were from potential clients and they could definitely wait in favor of Dorian.

“Kadan?” he said when he’d touched the crystal and heard sound coming from it.

Bull frowned.  Dorian hesitated on the other end.  He _never_ hesitated.  Most of the time Bull felt like he’d answered the crystal mid-rant as Dorian spilled out all the tension and annoyances of the day.

“The Iron Bull?”

Bull immediately stood up.  That was Nera’s voice.  Nera had never called him on the crystal before.  No one aside from Dorian had _ever_ called him.  Bull hadn’t known it was even possible.  Which meant something wrong.

“What happened?” Bull asked urgently.  The rage of battle gathered in his chest and it disoriented him to feel it in the safety of his home.  

“Magister Pavus has been taken,” Nera said, cutting right to the matter.  Her voice sounded blank.  Even in his explosion of anger and fear, Bull registered that tidbit.  His training had never really turned off.  “Venatori as far as we can tell.  There was a struggle.  No blood was found, but we discovered this crystal and his staff broken in pieces.”

Bull had known it wouldn’t happen eventually.  Dorian’s father was assassinated and Halward Pavus wasn’t nearly the thorn Dorian aspired to be.  But knowing it was coming and actually experiencing it were _very_ different matters.  

Dorian could be _dead_.  They could be torturing him.  And Iron Bull was in another nation with his thumb up his ass writing fucking letters while his kadan had been taken.  

“Tell me everything,” he growled.

Nera started talking and she didn’t stop for nearly fifteen minutes.  The only good news in anything she said was that the Lucerni had been focusing energy on spying.  They knew many of the Venatori hideouts.  That limited the places where they could start looking.

“I’m sorry, the Iron Bull,” Nera said after she finally finished giving him details and Bull noted the first hint of emotion, a subtle distress creeping in her tone.  “I wasn’t with him.  I should have been-”

“If you’d been there, you’d be dead,” Bull said bluntly.  “No time for self blame, Nera.  I’m coming right away.  We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“You’re...coming?”

“Of course.  Why else did you call?” he asked, confused.

“To inform you.  I knew you’d want to know, but...do you think it’s a good idea?  Magister Pavus wouldn’t want-”

  
“Magister Pavus can kiss my ass,” Bull grunted.  “He’s in danger and I’m coming for him.  Me and my Chargers.  We’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.”

Nera hesitated again, but only briefly.

“I’ll work on getting more information.  Safe travels, the Iron Bull.”

**********

Krem wanted nothing less than to travel back into Tevinter.  He’d be perfectly happy if he never saw the Makerforsaken shitpit ever again.

  
But the chief had to go and fall in love with the most prickly ‘Vint Krem had ever met.  

And not just any ‘Vint, but a fucking Magister who was asshole deep in a revolution.  A revolution Krem supported, but you know, from afar.  

That being said, Krem also didn’t want to let Pavus die because he hated his homeland.  Mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure Bull would survive it.  His fears about going mad might actually come true if Pavus died the way the Venatori no doubt wanted to kill him.  

And much as he might joke about the mage, Krem actually did respect Pavus more than he thought he ever would.  Krem could never wade into that Imperium mess and he didn’t think he could stay away from someone he loved for so long.  He wasn’t even sure if he was in love with Maryden yet and he’d already be pissed if they went more than a week without a visit.  

Still that didn’t make it any easier to quietly steal across the Tevinter border at midnight and feel the oppressive weight of magic settled on his shoulders.  Krem had never realized how much magic thickened the air of Tevinter until he escaped to the lighter calmer south.  

“This place gives me the collywobbles,” Rocky grunted quietly.

“Tell me about it,” Krem agreed.  He glanced at Bull, but the chief hadn’t been talking much.  Or reacting much.  Krem would be worried if he hadn’t seen Bull this way before.  Whenever something really mattered, he focused so hard it seemed like the rest of the world ceased to exist.  The Iron Bull on a mission was a scary fucking sight to behold.

They fell silent again.  Creeping into Tevinter with two elves, a dwarf and a massive Qunari was no small feat.  They split and came together over and over in a well orchestrated pattern.  Each one had been trained for silence when necessary, though none so well as Iron Bull.  Chief could completely disappear when he needed and Krem still had no idea how he did it.  

They slept in five different camps that night.  Krem stayed with Stitches, which was great since Stitches was their best cook.  They shared a delicious stew and talked about all the ways this plan could go epically wrong.  Krem didn’t know much about it yet.  They were meeting a contact near Minrathous who’d give them better information and from there, they’d stage the rescue.  

“I just keep seeing the chief locked up in chains,” Krem admitted.  

Stitches’ eyes glowed in the firelight as he nodded.  “Yeah.”  A pause.  “But he’d take down a lot of the ‘Vints before they got him.”

“Fuck yeah, he would,” Krem said with a smile, feeling better.  The chief wasn’t rushing in blindly.  If for no other reason than he didn’t want to jeopardize the mission because Krem knew if Bull had his way, he’d be rampaging across the countryside without pause.  They’d be fine.  They’d rescue Sparkler, the chief would kill some crazy ‘Vints and everyone would get home safely.

They _would_.

“Who’s this contact?” Krem asked the following morning when he met up with Bull again.  He knew the chief camped alone.  It was probably a mistake.  He seemed more tense than ever.  One of the Chargers should have stayed with him to distract him from what Krem imagined was a lot of staring at the silent crystal and planning bloody revenge.  

“Dorian’s bodyguard,” Bull explained.  

When no further explanation came, Krem had to ask, “Um, bodyguard?  Was he…?”

“She,” Bull corrected.  “Nera.  Dorian made her take off that day.  Guessing the Venatori were waiting for that.  She’s too good.”

If the chief approved of her to watch over his precious ‘Vint, she must actually be pretty talented.  Krem couldn’t imagine they’d find her in a good mood though.  

Turned out he was _very_ right.  

They met her at a tavern on the edge of the seedier side of town.  The only part of Minrathous that Krem could stand.  Being so close to the heart of the Imperium gave him the shivers.  If he got taken again, Bull better fucking lead another rescue for him.  This far from the center of town, the tavern was mostly soporati, lesser mages and even a few other species.  A _very_ few.  

Lousy exclusive culture.

The chief led them through the dank bar to the back where a woman with bright red hair sat, her hands clenched around a glass of liquor, her frame practically thrumming with tension.  

“Hey,” Krem said, his memory prickling.  “I’ve seen you before.”

“In the tavern near Magister Pavus’ villa,” she said shortly.  “You called him ‘Sparkler’.”

Krem flushed.  Now that she told him, he saw her in his memory.  He’d only glanced at the young woman drinking at a nearby table, but Krem rarely if ever forgot a face.  If the situation was less fraught, he’d ask her if Bull had flirted with her yet.  The chief did love his redheads.  

Instead, he shifted and said, “It’s a term of endearment.”

Nera clearly wasn’t in the mood to joke.  Her attention shifted to the chief.  “I have better intelligence on where they might have him.  I’ve been waiting to move out because I recognize I will have more success with your assistance.  I have also brought three of Magister Pavus’ most trusted guards.  I believe we will be an adequate match for the Venatori assholes that took him.”

Her green eyes were pure fire.  If Krem wasn’t so scared of her, he might be turned on.  She reminded him of Cassandra though.  Beautiful and fierce, but way too distant and cold to approach.  Of course she was also dealing with knowing the man she was sworn to protect was in the clutches of a crazy cult.  Maybe she was warmer generally.

“More than adequate,” Bull growled, but he nodded and tapped the table.  “Tell me what you know.”

According to Nera, the Venatori had three major hideouts that the Lucerni had discovered.  She doubted they’d have taken him to a smaller location because they wouldn’t have very good protection.  The hideouts were well guarded bases full of Venatori followers and slaves.  

“We don’t know if they are holding him ransom or…”  Nera trailed off, apparently unable to speak the words.  To Krem’s great surprise, Bull grabbed her hand.  He wondered if Bull were giving her strength or vice versa.  Probably both.  “We haven’t heard anything from them,” she finally said.  “We need to leave soon.  I fear for his life if we delay.”

“We’re ready to go,” Bull said quickly.  

None of the Chargers disputed this statement.  Skinner leaned forward, a wicked gleam in her eyes.  Nera’s expression subtly changed with interest.  

“We’ll get Sir Bossy Boots back and we’ll kill as many ‘Vints as we can while we do it,” she promised viciously.  

Nera’s eyes widened just a tad, but she didn’t look altogether displeased.  “Just be sure to kill the right ones.”  She stood up, squeezed Bull’s hand and then let it go.  “I’m going to round up the guards.  Meet me outside.”

Krem watched her go.  Before he could say anything, Stitches said, “She’s Dorian’s Krem, yeah?”

Krem flushed redder again, especially when Bull nodded.  “Yep.  C’mon.  Horns up.”

Unlike his usual merry shout, the chief sounded grim and determined.  They didn’t echo the call, but each straightened up and stalked from the tavern with an air of purpose.  They’d get Pavus back for their leader or die trying.

***********

Dorian wasn’t in the first hideout.  Every time Bull kicked up another door, he felt his heart leap into his throat, but each time he ended up disappointed.  The Venatori bore the brunt of his frustration.  Bull quickly lost count of how many of the fuckers ended their lives on the blade of his ax.

“The slaves,” Nera called to him while they battled.  She kept freezing Venatori bodyparts and letting Skinner and Dalish explode them to icy pieces.  The women were clearly enjoying themselves too much.  “We need to free them.”

Bull tugged his ax from Venatori brains with a wet squelch.  Pausing long enough to free the slaves would shave time off the rescue, but Bull knew how important it was to Nera.  And to Dorian.  His kadan had taken some time to start opposing with slavery, but now freeing slaves featured prominently in his political plans.  

“Yes, but quickly,” he roared over the heads of two advancing Venatori.  Krem and Rocky rushed to follow Nera down to the dungeon areas where the slaves were being held.  They wouldn’t have time to do much more than turn them free and hope for the best, but it’d be better than leaving them locked up still in the Venatori hands.  

Bull was glad of his decision when the first slaves came up from the dungeon, their eyes haunted, their faces gaunt.  Nera led a small girl by the hand away from the fighting.  Bull gutted a Venatori and looked up in time to see Nera sweep the frightened girl up in her arms.  

Yeah, it was a good decision.

When the hideout was cleared of the cultists, Bull stepped outside, wiping the blood from his ax off onto his pants.  Nera was telling the slaves the safest way to return to the city while Stitches bandaged the leg of an older male slave.  

“There will be a woman in the yellow house,” Nera was saying.  “She’s Lucerni.  She can help you find your way home or across the border out of Tevinter.”

“I want to come with you.”  

Bull looked up to see a tall muscular Elf with tattoos on his face.  Huh.  He was Dalish.  None of the other Elven slaves had the tattoos.  Bull gave him a closer look.  The Elf had dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and his body wasn’t the typical light wiry Elven body.  Or if it was, he’d trained it to be otherwise, packing on muscles for...what?

“That’s not a good idea-” Nera started, but the Elf shook his head.

“I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.  I’m not from this land.  I was taken near the borderlands,” he explained, his words bitter.  “I fought, but there were too many of them.  Now the odds are more even.”

“We don’t even know who the fuck you are,” Bull pointed out.

“My name is Devran.  I’m a hunter and a fighter for my clan and I was taken against my will,” he said in a forceful tone.  “I’m coming with you,” he repeated.

Nera looked at Bull and they both shrugged at each other.  

“You hurt anyone on my team, I’ll flay your skin from your bones,” Bull said.  “Skinner, get him some weapons.”

They’d made it through one hideout and somehow they’d adopted a strange angry Elf.  

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened to Bull.

********

Devran had never been a proper Elf.  

_Too angry.  Too curious about other races.  Too argumentative._ He’d heard it all before and now he was proving them all right again.  He _should_ turn and run back to the border.  Find his clan and his mother and little sister and brother.  

But what he wanted to do was stay here and kill Venatori.  

Dev had never even heard of Venatori until they’d taken him while he was hunting, apparently too close to the Tevinter border.  They’d been warned away from Tevinter, but _of course_ Dev had been too curious for his own good.  

Maybe his mother had been right about him after all.  His silly notions were going to get him killed.

But first, he’d take some Venatori out with him.  

Dev didn’t exactly understand what this strange group of people were doing.  There was a dwarf, two other elves, a bunch of humans and a huge raging Qunari.  Dev had never seen a Qunari before.  He felt this one matched the bedtime horror stories quite well.  When they reached the second hidden base of Venatori, he roared as he slayed men with no mercy.

Dev rather liked him.  

He didn’t discover until the battle ended that the Qunari was searching for his missing lover.  The lover had been taken by Venatori as well.  The red-haired human had explained it to him as they unlocked doors to rooms holding more humans and elves hostage.  The lover was her master and she was determined to get him back.

Her anger stayed quieter than the Qunari’s, but it suffused her nonetheless, making her green eyes flicker like flame.  

Dev rather liked her too.  Everyone in this group was so strange and violent.  Odd that it should make him feel at home, but it did.  He sympathized with the red-haired woman when her face fell at the sight of three dead slave bodies in the last cage they opened.  He understood the reason the scary-eyed Elf woman stabbed her knife into a dead Venatori in her anger.  And he felt a jolt of unexpected grief when the Qunari found the last unsearched room empty and let out an anguished roar.  

Dev leaned down and plucked a long sword from a dead Venatori’s hand.  It looked sharper than the blade he’d taken from the last stronghold.  “Let’s move,” he said as soon as the angry Qunari returned to them.  “Your lover is Tevinter, yes?  They’re all impatient assholes.  We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” he said.

The Qunari let out a surprised laugh and clapped him so hard on the back that Dev stumbled.

“Alright, you heard the Elf, let’s move out!”

*******

Dorian didn’t wake up for over a day, possibly longer.  Whatever they’d given him or hit him with, it’d been strong.  He woke to a pounding pain in his skull.  His legs ached and he thought he felt dried blood at the corner of his mouth.  He lay on a hard cot, but he wasn’t tied down.  Sitting up had him groaning.  

Maker be damned, his head _hurt_.

On the other hand, Dorian had expected to be killed immediately.  Waking up alive was quite the surprise.  On instinct, he reached up to find the sending crystal, but of course it had fallen in the attack.  Grief stabbed at Dorian’s insides.  

Was he ever going to see Bull again?

Falling in love did strange things to a person.  Dorian was stuck in the middle of a Venatori stronghold, his fragile, but growing powerbase threatened and all he could think about was whether he’d ever see Bull’s craggy beloved face again.  

Dorian reached up to touch his own face and winced.  One eye was swollen, though not enough to obscure his vision.  He tested his magic and found it dampened.  Not gone, but cloaked somehow.  He created a tiny flickering fire that quickly died.  Dorian sighed.  Of course.  The Venatori were insane, but they weren’t stupid.  They knew Dorian to be a powerful mage.  

He touched the stones of the walls and frowned.  Was the dampener in the stones?  Dorian wasn’t aware of such material, but he wasn’t bound, so his magic wasn’t blocked that way.  THe stones felt oily to the touch.  Could they be-

Dorian’s head whipped to the side when he heard a scream.  The sudden motion jolted pain up his neck, but he didn’t care.  He focused on the sound.  Another shout.  The sound of something heavy hitting the ground.  

  
Were the Venatori under attack?  

That could work in Dorian’s favor, even it was a mutual enemy.  He forced himself to stand, wincing as pain screamed up the side of his legs.  It felt like he’d been beaten.  Probably he had.  The room was perfectly circular and windowless.  Dorian inspected the bed and floor, but found nothing.   Damn.  Well, what did he expect?  They’d hardly leave his staff under the bed for him.  

But he would be as ready as he could.  Dorian stood as far from the door as possible and reached deep for his magic.  It wasn’t blocked entirely, but it exhausted him to gather it.  If someone burst through the door, he’d have just enough energy to blast them and make a run for it.  If he spent any more energy, he’d collapse before he could escape.

With his energy ball ready, Dorian leaned hard against the wall, ready to push off it to rocket away.  He heard the screams and sounds of fighting growing closer.  And then he heard footsteps, at least two sets pounding up a set of stairs.  He must be above the ground floor.

The steps grew closer and Dorian lifted his hands.

The door blasted open and he came within a heartbeat of slamming a ball of pure magical energy in Nera’s face.

“Magister Pavus!” she shouted and then flung herself into his arms.

Behind her, he saw an unfamiliar Elf giving them a raised eyebrow.  He looked as confused as Dorian felt.  “Nera?  Maker, Nera, what are you doing here?  It’s too dangerous, how did you--?”

That’s when Dorian heard it.  An immense and oh so familiar war cry.  His knees weakened and suddenly Nera was holding him up instead of hugging him.

“He came for me?” he whispered.

“Of course, he did,” Nera said, dragging him over to sit on the bed.  “You’re safe now, Magister Pavus.  This is Devran.  He’ll watch you while I get the Iron Bull.”

Nera ran to the door and shouted so loud that Dorian jumped.  He didn’t know she could shriek so loudly.  

“I FOUND HIM!”

The Elf...Devran, was it?...he grinned at Dorian.  “We killed everyone,” he said.  “Well, some of them are still killing everyone.  Your lover is incredibly menacing.”

Dorian let out a slightly hysterical laugh.  “Yes, I suppose he is. Who are...you know what, I don’t care right now.”

“I don’t blame you,” Devran commented as Nera came back and knelt by his side.  

“Are you hurt?” she asked as she inspected his face.  “Stitches can heal your face.  Is anything broken?  Oh, I’m so sorry, Magister Pavus.  I should have been there-”

Devran gently tugged Nera away from Dorian.  “Steady,” he said.  “There’ll be time for that later.”

Dorian looked up to him, meaning to thank him, but a shadow fell across the door and Dorian’s attention was stolen completely by his amatus rushing into the room.

“Bull,” he said in a voice stretched thin.  

Bull moved fast for a man so large.  One second Dorian was looking at Bull’s relieved face from across the room and the next he was lifted into those wonderful arms.  “Kadan,” Bull whispered against his uninjured temple.  “I thought...I didn’t know if we’d find you alive.”

Dorian didn’t even answer.  He just buried his face against Bull’s wide warm chest and clinged to him as his fear and anger coursed through his veins, burning away under the heat and light of relief and love.  

“Are you hurt?” Bull echoed Nera.  

Dorian shook his head.  “Nothing tragic,” he said when he was able to speak again.  “Just my legs ache and I think they hit my face.”

“Yeah, I see a big bruise forming,” Bull said, his lips twisting as he inspected Dorian’s face.  

“Oh dear, I hope it isn’t permanently disfigured.  This face is too precious to ruin,” he said automatically.

“Nothing could ruin your face, kadan,” Bull said.  He kissed Dorian’s hair and Dorian felt Bull breathing in deeply, as if wanting to reassure himself that Dorian was alive and very much with him.  

“That Elf man, he said you killed everyone?”

“Yeah, there’s a lot less Venatori in Tevinter tonight,” Bull said with grim satisfaction.  

“Good,” Dorian said firmly.  “Is he a new Charger?”

“No fucking clue who is, but he’s got a good fighting arm,” Bull said.  “C’mon, I want to get you out of this shit hole.”

Dorian had absolutely no complaints about that plan.

********

Bull handed Dorian a cup of steaming hot tea.  Or rather he poked the cup into the middle of the bundle of blankets and pillows that held his kadan.  A hand gripped the cup and it disappeared.  

“Thank you,” the blankets said.

“You’re welcome.”  Bull sat next to Dorian on the large sofa in the southernmost of the Pavus villas.  His Chargers plus Nera and Dev had taken over the second floor.  Right now, Bull didn’t want to be away from any of his important people.

Well, he didn’t know Dev, but the man had proved himself enough that Bull trusted him to stay.  Which was good because Nera seemed to have attached herself to him.  She needed the comfort, Bull realized.  They both nearly lost Dorian and it would take time to recover from the soul deep fear.  

“What am I going to do?” Dorian asked after a few quiet moments of sipping.

“About what?”

“About...Bull, I was _kidnapped_ ,” Dorian said, rather shrilly.  “They’re going to try it again.  If I can’t keep myself safe, how am I any good to Tevinter?”

Bull saw a chance laid out before him.  He could guide Dorian towards a decision to leave his mission behind.  Save his own tail and get out while he could.  They could be together every day instead of once every three or four months if they were lucky.

Bull saw the chance and he watched it melt away to remain a dream.

“They want you to run scared, kadan,” he said.  “They want you to give up on your countrymen.”

“So you’re saying I should keep going so they don’t get what they want?” Dorian asked.  He shook himself out of the blankets enough to see Bull properly.

Bull shook his head.  “No, I’m saying you should keep going so you get what _you_ want.  Get better guards.  You need people who love you.”

“Excuse me?” Dorian asked, frowning.

“Like Nera.  She’s good because of training, but she’s invaluable because she’d die for you,” Bull explained.  “You don’t need guards; you need followers.”

“And how am I supposed to find these followers?” Dorian asked, disgruntled.

“How’d you find Nera?”

“Mae recommended-”

“You had a feeling about her,” Bull countered.  “And you spent time cultivating your relationship with her.”

Dorian scowled.  He looked so cute when he scowled.  To think Bull might have lost the chance to see this again.  He scooted closer to Dorian.  

“Are you suggesting I spend time with people to manipulate them into dying for me?”

“Yes,” Bull said simply.  Dorian gaped at him.  “Dorian...you want to start a revolution?  You want to lead the Imperium back to the light?  You’re too gentle for it.  Too kind.  You have to learn how to set that aside sometimes or you need to come back to Skyhold now.”

Dorian contemplated his cup.  “I never thought of myself as kind,” he finally said.

“You’re prickly and argumentative, but that’s not the same thing as being cruel,” Bull explained.

Dorian stayed quiet for a long time.  Unusual for him, but necessary.  He needed to organize his thoughts.  When he finally spoke, he sounded _so_ young.

“I don’t know if I can do this, amatus,” he murmured.

Bull set his own cup aside and tugged Dorian into his arms.  “You can, kadan.  You just need help.  Like...perhaps a Qunari bodyguard?”

Dorian’s head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock.  “You can’t be serious-”

“Don’t decide now,” Bull asked.  “Please.  Just think it over.  If I came to Tevinter as your lover, yeah it’d be a huge scandal, but if you hired a mindless Qunari beast to guard you after the attack?”

“But you’d be...we couldn’t be open...you’d be-”

“I know what I’m offering,” Bull said with confidence.  The fear and hope warring in Dorian’s eyes made his heart ache.  Always so afraid to take what he wanted.  “I can help you.”

“But you hate Tevinter,” Dorian pointed out.

“True,” Bull allowed.  “But I didn’t realize...I saw what was going on there, Dorian.  And I love you and it’s important to you.  That’s enough for me.”

“What about the Chargers?”

“I’d give them the option to come or stay here,” Bull said evenly.  He loved his men, but Dorian was his kadan.  Dorian needed him more now.  “Don’t worry about it right now, okay?”  Bull leaned over to kiss the side of Dorian’s head.  “Just give it some thought and let me know.”

Dorian stared at him.  “It’d be so dangerous,” he whispered.

Bull grinned.  “Sounds like fun to me.”

Dorian snorted and the air of seriousness lifted off him.  “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me,” Bull countered.

Dorian leaned against him and let out a soft sigh.

“I do, amatus.  More than anything.”

 ****  



End file.
